


Her Light Is That Loud

by hostagesfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cunnilingus, F/M, cisgirl!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2955299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic/pseuds/hostagesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam texts her half through chemistry, a sneaky selfie of him sticking his tongue out at the camera and pulling an awful face, and Louis lets herself gaze at it far more wistfully than the photo itself deserves. Fond memories of the night before, that’s all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Light Is That Loud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [solarsystems](https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarsystems/gifts).



> Written for Agnes, combining two prompts: “liam/cgirl!louis. (suggested highschool au)” and “cboy!anyone/cgirl!anyone. oral fixation.” You have immaculate taste. (I may have forwarded your prompts email to P and asked “IS THIS ME??”) I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Thanks to P for hand-holding and beta-ing, and to [Pan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Saralisse/pseuds/Saralisse) for the extra set of eyes! Also, thanks to [Nan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/profile) for putting the exchange together this year! And, naturally, thanks to 1D for singing a song about a Girl Almighty, from which I took the title of this fic. 
> 
> Please note: in this, Louis is a cisgirl, and Harry uses they/them pronouns. 
> 
> Warnings: Brief mention of sexism/misogyny, and the slight angst inherent in any hs au.

The bench down the middle of the locker room is narrow with sharp sides that dig into Louis' hips. It makes her squirm, and Liam glances up at her from where he's knelt at the end. Her knees are splayed wide over his wider shoulders, and he grins. "Alright, Lou?"

Louis hisses at him. "Liam, would you put your bloody mouth--" Her words get lost in a moan when he follows her demands, putting his mouth back on her cunt and licking a broad stripe up her from taint to clit.

"Yeah," she sighs, and wiggles a bit, this time more concerned with Liam's mouth on her than the bench digging into her sides. He's taking his time, which is absolutely unnecessary when she's spending the night at his. They could take their time later, in his neatly-made double bed that Louis so loves to un-make. Getting tangled in the sheets and falling off onto the floor and seeing Liam's horrified face as he waits to see if they woke his parents is half the point.

But right now Louis wants to come, wants to get off and get out of this stinking room, get out of her sweaty practice kit and her heavy cleats, currently bobbing around behind Liam's head as he grips her hips and angles her legs wider. "Liam," she whines, reaching down to tug at the long bits of his hair. "Would you just-"

Liam's smiling against her cunt, damn him, she can tell just from the way his ears are pinking and the stretch of his cheeks. Her boyfriend is the dumbest. She tries guiding his head and he lets her, but the most she can do with that is to tilt her hips up and grind against his mouth, and he's still smiling, which is no help at all.

"I'll let you pick teams for FIFA," she offers, a last-ditch effort. Liam looks up at her, great cow brown eyes wide with surprise, and nods curtly. Louis lets her head fall back in relief. Liam's lips close around her clit a second later, and she's as stiff as the bench, thighs quivering around his head.

Like that it's over in minutes, Liam done with his teasing and focusing all his attention on getting her off the way she likes: his big hands leaving bruises on her hips, holding her down as she bucks against his face and comes on his tongue.

;

They end up making it through the McDonalds drive-thru before it closes, and Louis is triumphant. Liam feeds her fries as she navigates the final three miles back to his house afterwards, making her wait for her cheeseburger until they're sitting in his driveway.

"It's a safety precaution," he says, for the umpteenth time, and Louis rolls her eyes, sticks out her tongue with the half-masticated bit of bun and burger on it.

Liam blinks, and then laughs. "Sexy."

"I am so sexy," Louis nods affably. "The sexiest, really, ought to get me one of them trophies, No. 1 Most Sexy or summat." 

"Yeah, I'll do that," Liam agrees. His hand is on her knee, fingers splayed over the bruises and scrapes from practice. The warmth feels nice. She could do with a hot shower, if she's honest. If they're quiet, they might get away with sharing one tonight.

The living room light is on, which means Geoff is still up, and Louis will have to pretend to go to bed in Ruth's old room, but that's barely a hindrance to their plans. Even Mrs. Payne knows Louis sleeps in Liam's bed on the nights she stays over--especially Mrs. Payne, as she does the laundry. Louis does feel a bit bad about that. She always means to remind Liam to put in a load of sheets when they make a mess, but always forgets. Anyway, Karen's lovely, and she's never mentioned that Louis' a squirter.

Louis finishes her burger with some regret that she hadn't gotten two, but Liam hands her his carton of fries and it's still half full, which is lovely. "Why I keep you around, Payno," she informs him, licking salt off her fingers.

Liam doesn't look too bothered, although it might be his distraction over her sucking at her middle finger. She purses her lips and then draws her fingers free and snaps them in his face. He blinks. Louis laughs. "Come along then, Liam. I'm knackered and I need to be put to bed."

She times it just so that he's got his key in the lock of the front door when she leans up to whisper in his ear. "And I might suck _you_ later, if you're good." 

;

They’re eight minutes late the next morning, because Louis decided to fix her hair and then tore it all out after anyway. Now it’s in a loose ponytail, and Liam gives it a little tug as they run up the steps into school. His schedule is the opposite of hers except for lunch, which means they have to part ways at the crossroads of the corridors. They’re already late, so an impromptu snog won’t make a difference, and Louis pulls him in by the belt-loops, steps up onto his shoes to reach his mouth. Liam tastes of weak, sugary tea that Louis can only stand off his lips, never to drink herself, and she bites at his mouth as they part, grins at him. “See you at lunch then,” she says. “Love you,” he says, and flushes. It’s still new enough to be overwhelming, and Louis has to tamp down the swell of emotion in her chest and get to class.

The butterflies simmer in her stomach through maths, and then she has geography with Niall, which is always a wash. The two of them doodle on their notes pages and swap back and forth to finish each other’s drawings, and Niall turns the butterflies Louis drew into mutant flies with tiny fart guns, which is just unrealistic. Louis draws stickman Niall being eaten by a large rabbit just for payback. 

Liam texts her half through chemistry, a sneaky selfie of him sticking his tongue out at the camera and pulling an awful face, and Louis lets herself gaze at it far more wistfully than the photo itself deserves. Fond memories of the night before, that’s all. Liam’s tongue really is one of his better qualities. She texts him back to let him know, and gets a winky face. 

The spotty kid she shares a lab set with clears his throat loudly, and Louis sighs. She may spend half her days worrying about uni next year, but there are some things she won’t miss. Besides, if she takes that gap year she and the boys have been discussing, any decisions about uni can be put off another twelve months. The thoughts of her and Liam on a beach in Spain keep her busy the rest of chemistry.

School itself seems endless, a sort of mindless rote exercise in Louis’ self-control from poking spotty kid in the face with her pencil or arguing with her lit teacher about the real reason Ophelia went mad in Hamlet. But school is just a warm-up, Louis reminds herself, shoving books from her locker into her backpack so she can study over the weekend with Zayn, and heads towards the locker rooms after her last class.

The boys on the team learned a long time ago that Louis doesn’t care if they look while she changes. They learned very shortly after that that Liam very much does care. It’s one of the few times Louis will let him fight her battles for her, mostly because she thinks it’s funny when he growls at their teammates as she hops around on one foot with only her shorts on. Today, the usual suspects are late, and Louis shrugs at Liam as they change quickly with the locker room to themselves. “Don’t look so disappointed.” She rolls her eyes. “I know how you love your caveman routine, but you’ll survive without.” 

Liam just shrugs, and motions for her to sit down. Louis does, shivering a little. It’s reflexive. She can feel the bruises on her hips throb a little at the memory. Liam carefully laces her boots, neater than Louis would, and straightens her socks, which is just silly. “They’ll be so muddy when I’m done you can’t tell the seam wasn’t straight,” Louis argues.

Liam kisses her knee, and stands up, infuriatingly agreeable. 

She stays on the bench, knee to knee, thigh to thigh with him, as he does up his own boots, even as the other boys come in, jostling for space to get ready.

;

Playing footie has always been the thing Louis has felt best at in her life. Playing footie and making grilled cheese sandwiches for her little sisters, but she figures she’s more likely to get a scholarship for the former. 

It’s calming, in a way, the madness of it. Louis can kick the legs out from under some poor sod, faceplant in mud, and run the length of the field only to turn on a heel and race back to the other end on a dime all as the coaches shout and the crowd cheers, and it’s the easiest, simplest thing in the world. It’s like breathing. 

Liam snorts. “Maybe like, when Harry’s having an asthma attack sort of breathing, babe. Like, on the pitch it’s proper mad sometimes.”

Louis pinches his arm. They’re sat in her tiny car again, this time in the McDonald’s parking lot, and he’s been dipping his fries in her sundae, but she might reconsider his access for that smart remark. “I can’t help that not everyone’s a natural like I am, Liam,” she settles on.

Liam glances over at her, and she tries not to look back, gives in after only a second, grinning. His smile is contagious, that’s all. They crack up together, Liam’s laugh full and belly-deep, like he’s surprised by it, Louis’ hoarse from the cold ice cream she’s been shoveling. 

“I just meant,” she says, after a moment. “Like, playing footie is the best thing in the world, for me. It just feels… like I’m doing something right, for once, when I’m out there.” 

Liam nods. “Yeah,” he says. He picks up her hand off the gear shift, closes his big fingers around hers. “I know the feeling.” 

;

Liam and Louis babysit her younger sisters for three hours on Saturday night. In return, Louis’ mother promises to keep them out of Louis’ room Sunday morning. Louis has plans. Her mother doesn’t even bother to look wary when Louis informs her of this. Johannah has survived eighteen years worth of Louis’ plans, and she just bought Louis a new box of condoms last week. Besides, she has four younger daughters to worry about. 

“Anyway, I’m totally responsible,” Louis informs Harry, over the phone as she makes mac and cheese for the twins, marks up Fizzy’s math homework mistakes, and shoves dirty dishes into the wash. Liam is playing Twister with the girls in the living room, after Louis bagsied dinner responsibilities. Her culinary skills may be limited to Kraft and her signature grilled cheeses, but it’s an easier gig than keeping the girls entertained. Liam still has that sheen of novelty. 

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Harry says, finally. It sounds like they have Louis on speaker, and was probably typing out a text response to someone. 

“Good,” Louis says. “Because I _am_.”

“You are,” Harry agrees. “Sort of. At some stuff. Why are we talking about this?”

Louis stirs the mac and cheese pensively. “I dunno. I’m glad my mum trusts me? But she was just like ‘yeah, whatever,’ and left.”

Harry _hmms_ sympathetically. “She’s very busy, your mum.”

“I know that.” Louis sighs. “It’s just weird, like, being an adult. Having my boyfriend stay over. Mum bought us--” she glances around to make sure none of the girls have snuck back into the kitchen, “condoms. It’s weird, Harold.” 

There’s a long pause, and Louis wonders if Harry’s fallen asleep. She clears her throat.

“Oh,” Harry says. “Yeah, that is weird. Sorry, I’m painting my nails at the minute.” 

Louis makes a face. “You’re not paying proper attention to my complaining, what kind of best friend are you?” 

“Awful,” Harry says. “Terrible, no good.” 

“Honestly,” Louis agrees.

;

“I guess I just… wish she’d worry over me, like a normal mum, sometimes.” Louis drapes her arm over her eyes so she doesn’t have to see Liam’s concerned face from all of four inches away on the other side of her pillow. 

Liam nudges their knees together under the sheets. “She does, you know. She worries for you plenty, Lou.” 

“Ehhh,” Louis grunts. “I’m just being weird, ignore me.” 

Liam shakes his head, which shakes the pillow. “Shan’t.”

Louis turns onto her back and stares at the ceiling. “I’m worried about uni,” she says, after a moment, so quiet that maybe he won’t hear. He does, of course. He rolls over and slides his thick arm over her tummy, snuggles against her side. Louis always half forgets how much bigger Liam is, when they’re this close. 

“I know,” he says, equally quiet. “I am too. We’ll figure it out, though, yeah? And I’ll worry over you if your mum doesn’t do it to your expectations.” 

Louis smiles, helplessly. She tries to sound mocking, but she knows he hears the fondness in her voice when she says, “Thank you, Liam.” 

;

Louis’ big plan for Sunday morning includes sleeping in past ten and sneaking down to the kitchen to nab the last two cinnamon rolls out of the pan to take back up to Liam, who’s still only half-awake in her bed. 

His hair is a mess, and he’s rubbing sleep out of his eyes when she closes the door behind her, bounces onto the bed beside him. She shoves a sticky roll into his face and holds it to his mouth until he takes a bite. “Mmmf.” 

Louis grins. “‘s good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam agrees, leaning forward to lick icing off Louis’ knuckle. “Wanna eat it off you.”

“Fuck off,” Louis laughs. “We’re not wasting a good breakfast for _foreplay_.” 

Liam smiles around her fingers as she feeds him another bite. “Could at least let me have dessert after.” 

She squirms in the soft jersey briefs she stole from him last night to sleep in. “After we eat,” she decides. “Eat _these_ , Liam, thank you.”

After is only a few minutes later, when Liam’s tipped Louis backwards on the bed with sticky hands, peeling her out of his underwear. Louis grins at the ceiling as he kisses her knees, runs his fingers up her legs. Liam’s mouth is dizzyingly warm, planting damp kisses up her thighs, pushing her loose sleeping shirt up to palm at her boobs and kiss around her belly button. 

She squirms down, trying to grind against his leg, and Liam laughs, nips at her side to get her to stay still. He gets his mouth on her nipple just as she starts getting impatient, brings his hand up to her mouth and lets her suck on his fingers to get them wet. Louis bites at his fingertips as he pulls them free, and hisses when he reaches down to feel between her legs. His stupid big fingers, pads rough from working at the garage on weekends, trace over her carefully, making her wriggle. He always wants to take his bloody time. Louis rolls her hips up, grinding against his hand, and tugs at his hair. “You said something about dessert,” she reminds him.

Liam’s teeth graze her nipple as he smiles against her skin. “You were fine waiting, like, five minutes ago.”

“This is now,” Louis points out. “C’mon. Want your mouth.”

Liam sighs, long-suffering, and ducks down, spreading her thighs and thumbing her open to lick where she’s already gone wet. Louis keeps her hands in his hair, guides him until he’s-- “there,” she sighs. “Just. Stay there a bit.”

Liam stays as long as she’ll let him.

;

They meet the lads at the park in the afternoon, Niall and Harry turning up in boots and ponchos for the light rain that’s begun to fall. “Wusses,” Louis says. Niall sticks out his tongue, but Harry just grins, throws their arms open wide and sweeps Louis into a hug, complete with water dripping off their poncho down Louis’ jersey neck. “Ugh,” Louis groans, and pinches at Harry’s nipples. 

Zayn’s late, as usual, showing up ten minutes after they’ve started a two-on-two. He’s also bundled up to the size of a snowman, with a snapback pulled low to keep the mist out of his eyes. 

“I’m not playing,” he says, like they even expected him to, settling on the hood of Louis’ Clio like a cat trying to stay warm. 

It’s Liam and Louis against Niall and Harry, which is... “Not fair,” Niall is still protesting. “Harry’s useless at this and you two have your weird sexual mind meld shite.”

“Hey,” Harry says, breathless, leaning their hands on their knees. 

Louis jogs over to pat Harry’s back. “You’re not _quite_ useless, Haz, just… mostly, at footie.” 

Harry looks up at her sweetly, just before knocking the ball out of Louis’ hands with their knee and kicking it across the field to Niall.

Louis swears, and sets off to rescue her lead.

It’s an hour before Zayn starts complaining in earnest: his knees are cold, his hands are cold, his balls are detached. He’s getting more creative since he took that writing workshop last summer, and frankly Louis is afraid he’s going to start in on metaphors for his misery soon, so she calls a halt. 

They all pile into Niall’s brother’s car to go to KFC, as there’s no way all five of them could fit in the Clio comfortably. Their corner booth is open, and Harry nabs it as Louis and Zayn order, and Liam and Niall grab the necessary napkins and straws. “We’re a fine-tuned machine,” Louis observes proudly. 

“Your _mum_ is a fine-tuned machine,” Zayn mutters, and Louis hits him. The kid behind the counter looks slightly anxious. Louis smiles at him broadly. She knows she looks a mess, oversized boyfriend’s hoodie over her treasured Giggsy jersey, mud and grass-stained legs she hasn’t bothered to shave in nearly a week on full display in her athletic shorts. Her hair’s in a tangled mess of a ponytail, and her mascara’s run a bit from the cold mist, and she just punched her friend in the balls. The KFC attendant _should_ fear her. She is a goddess.

They split one of the family packs, and pass around the 2 liter Coke with greasy fingers. Liam’s left hand stays on Louis’ thigh through the entire meal, his thumb dipping under the damp hem of her shorts and making her shoot him a glare. 

Harry giggles, half in Zayn’s lap and eating Zayn’s fries in pieces. “Liam and Louis are being gross again.”

Zayn shrugs. “They’re always gross.”

“Feckin’ nasty,” Niall agrees, “Liam looks like he’d rather eat Louis.”

“Well,” Liam says, and squeezes Louis’ leg. 

Niall shakes his head sadly, and kisses his drumstick before starting in on it. “And when there’s perfectly good KFC right here. You’ve deserted the Colonel, mate.”

It’s Liam’s turn to shrug, then, and steal a sip of Louis’ Coke. His thumb is edging further up her thigh under the hem of her shorts. 

Harry nuzzles at Zayn’s neck, and hands their last fry to Niall. “He just traded in the Colonel for a queen, Nialler, you can’t blame him for that.”

“Fuckin’ right,” Louis grins. 

Zayn shakes his head. 

;

Louis has to be back in time to help Lottie fix dinner, because their mum has taken another late shift. She also gets to help Fizz with maths homework, which is absolute shambles. She can feel her brain melting, which isn’t a good sign for her own approaching GCSEs. She ends up putting the twins to bed early, just because they’re whiny and it’s making her head hurt worse, and the warm feeling from the afternoon has dissipated. 

By the time she gets a second to breathe, she’s had a stare-down with Lottie for bathroom dibs on first shower, and collapsed on the toilet seat, drawing her legs up to her chest. She’s got seven texts from Liam, ranging from “had fun today ur so good at footie” to “are u ok” and “louis?” She types out a quick “ok, ttyl” and sets her phone down on the sink counter. It buzzes with a new text, but she can’t bring herself to check. 

Louis doesn’t want to go to school tomorrow. Doesn’t want to write the essay that’s due in the morning. Doesn’t want to leave the bathroom and clean the kitchen, in the shorter term. She turns on the shower tap, strips quickly and then shivers under the still-cold spray. It’s no worse than a locker room shower, though, and by the time the water is properly warm, Louis is rinsing off, wringing out her hair. 

She cleans the kitchen in a towel, wrapped tight under her arms. It’s a bit chilly, but she doesn’t want to put on her pajamas before she can get in bed. That would just make everything more difficult. 

When she checks her notes, the essay turns out to be three paragraphs, and Louis sighs. She can do that in the morning, maybe. If she feels like it. She crawls into bed and picks up her phone with a sigh. Liam’s texted her two more times, “love you,” and then, just two minutes before, “dont wanna sleep without u :( my bed is so lonely.”

Louis can’t help smiling tiredly. She clicks off her bedside lamp and hits dial. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Liam says, sounding slightly breathless. “Sorry, I was, um.”

“Liam,” Louis says, delighted, headache and all. “Were you having a wank?”

“I was _going to_ ,” Liam says, belatedly. “Obviously not, like, now.”

Louis flops onto her back, and lays her palm on her stomach. “Well, you should.” She’s not sure she’s going to follow suit, but it doesn’t hurt to just touch. Her nipples are perking up, just at the thought. “And you should tell me about it during.” 

“Lou,” Liam breathes, a little hoarse. 

“Go on,” Louis says. 

“I’m just, like, holding it, now,” Liam says, hesitantly.

Louis snorts, and palms her boob. “Yeah? You gonna do anything with it?”

“If you want me to.” Liam’s voice has gone soft.

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Go on, then. Give it a nice tug. Like how I’d do.”

“Okay.” There’s a pause, and then Liam’s breath hitches audibly. “Okay, I did, I’m- I’m doing it.”

“You’re doing it, huh.” Louis grins. She pinches a nipple between two fingers and hums. 

“Wish you were here,” Liam whispers. “This morning was so- so good, Lou.”

Louis swallows. It was good. “You liked that?” She asks, leading. 

Liam doesn’t point out that she already knows. “Yeah,” he says. “Like… getting my mouth on you.”

She can’t help but whimper a bit at that. “You’d do it again for me? Tonight?”

“Yeah.” Liam exhales heavily. “Do it for you every night, Lou.”

Grinning, Louis trails her fingers down her tummy. “You’d never want to mix it up a little? Fuck me some nights?” She’s wet in her sweatpants, when she sneaks her fingertips under the elastic. She gives herself a teasing little circle around her clit and slides her fingers down further. Liam’s groan sounds good through the phone, if not as good as it would feel against her right now. “What if I get bored?”

“Wouldn’t let you get bored,” Liam says, sounding indignant. 

“You seem to be very confident in your skills, Payno.”

“Should I not be?” His voice has gone a bit petulant, now, and Louis can’t stop smiling. 

She curls her fingers in and stills them for a moment to concentrate. “Now, now, Liam, I didn’t question your skills, did I? They’ve been quite adequate in my experience.”

“Adequate,” Liam says, huffily, but there’s a wet slick sound through the phone, so he’s gone back to wanking. He can’t be too insulted. 

Still, she’s feeling generous, and there’s a pricking at some region in her chest at the thought Liam might ever miss the fact she’s horrifically in love with him, adequacy at sex and all. “I’m just kidding, you know. Fuck, Li, you’re always good, you always make it good.”

Liam’s quiet for a moment, before there’s another soft sound through the phone like he’s moving around in his sheets. Louis can imagine it, the patterned flannel catching around his shins as he tries to kick the covers down. 

“I love your fucking tongue, Li, and you’re so-- you’re so good at doing just what I like, sometimes I don’t even have to tell you, you know me that well. You’re that good, Liam.”

Liam sighs, sweetly. “Louis-”

“Yeah,” Louis says, immediately. “Yeah, ‘m right here, I’ll keep talking, just listen to me for a mo, yeah? Liam, god, you’re the best, really, like, when you get your fingers in me-” she’s rambling a bit, she knows, but she’s trying to keep talking as she tries to speed up her own wanking and tries to picture Liam doing the same. It’s a lot. “Your fingers are so big, baby, they’re so much nicer than mine, I wish- I wish I had yours instead of mine right now, ha.” She takes a shuddery breath. 

“Louis,” Liam says, more urgently this time. “Lou, ‘m really close.”

“Good.” Louis digs her heels into the mattress and closes her eyes. “I wish you were here right now, Li, you’d be so good for me, show off for me a little.” She takes a deep breath. “Can you do that for me? It’d be so good, babe, I’d like it so much if you could- just- fucking come for me, okay?”

Liam whimpers, and the line crackles with his harsh breathing before it goes quiet. 

“Yeah?” Louis asks.

“Yeah,” Liam mumbles. “Fuck, Louis.”

“You wish,” Louis laughs, and clutches the sweaty screen of her phone tighter to her cheek. 

;

She picks Liam up late the next morning, as usual, and as usual, he doesn’t mention it. He slides his hand under hers on the gear shift and turns the radio up so she can sing along to Tulisa’s newest single as loud as she likes. He doesn’t mention the night before, though, and Louis doesn’t either. She’ll save it for a text during chemistry, she decides. It’s all about timing. 

As it happens, she’s too busy trying to dissolve into a gaseous form during chemistry to remember it. There’s a pop quiz, and Louis blags her way through all ten questions. She’s also convinced she’s gotten all ten wrong. 

The remainder of the day is a haze until she physically trips into Liam as they walk into the locker room. Louis is so relieved she clings to him; and when he makes a face in surprise, she goes limp, so he has to drag her all the way to their lockers. “I need affection,” she demands, and Liam doesn’t question it, sits down on the bench and lets her settle on his knee. 

“Today was shit,” Liam says quietly, hugging her waist. 

Louis sighs heavily. “Mine was worse, bet you ten quid.”

Liam grunts, and kisses her neck. He gently maneuvers her onto the bench so he can grab their boots and they can make at least an appearance of getting ready for practice. The rest of the team is already on the pitch, and coach is yelling about warm ups loud enough they can hear from here. “No money bets, but I’ll buy you fries on the way home,” he offers. He’s lost money to Louis too many times.

“Pop quiz in chem,” she says, and Liam wrinkles his nose sympathetically. She’s definitely getting fries on the way home.

“I have so much homework,” he says, when she prompts him with her eyebrows. “I’ve got to go over to Zayn’s so he can help me with a paper.”

“Tonight?” Louis makes a face. She’s supposed to get fries, dammit.

Liam nods. “I’m sorry. You can drop me at mine and I’ll take the bus, but I don’t know what I’m even going to _write_ about, Lou.”

Louis pinches at the toes of her boots pensively and shrugs. “S’fine. I can drive you to his, you’ll have more time to study.” She needs new boots, she remembers, now that they’re pinching a bit with today’s thick socks, her feet suddenly deciding to grow a half size when she hasn’t grown an inch in years. If she gets any Christmas money she’ll have to put it towards that. That, or her uni fund. Louis shakes her head to clear it. 

Liam is frowning. “I know we’d said we’d hang out, I could see if Zayn could do it tomorrow-”

“Nah.” Louis squeezes his hand as she stands up, twines their fingers together as she pulls him towards the door onto the field. “We can hang out another time, yeah?” She’s already thinking about tomorrow night: Liam playing a couple rounds of Uno with her sisters as she cleans the kitchen, putting the twins to bed so the rest of them can pile up on the battered Tomlinson sofa to watch the new episode of Skins. She’ll probably make popcorn just so she can lick the salt and butter off Liam’s lips and make Lottie groan from her end of the couch. Later, if they can convince their parents to let him stay over on a school night, they’ll pile into her small upstairs bed and snog for real, and Louis will rub her lips raw on his slight stubble before shoving his head down to feel it on her thighs.

For now, she’ll take her team beating his at a scrimmage.


End file.
